


Bad Driving

by plant_flwrs



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Is Trying His Best, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Adam Parrish, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Call Down the Hawk Spoilers, Ronan Lynch Driving, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch is Bad at Feelings, Ronan Lynch is an Awful Driver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plant_flwrs/pseuds/plant_flwrs
Summary: Adam hates driving with Ronan because it reminds him of his father's reckless endangerment.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch & Adam Parrish
Kudos: 29





	Bad Driving

**Author's Note:**

> Obvious warnings for past abuse! Be kind to yourself. Also a bit of a warning for not the healthiest methods of comfort and coping, but do we expect that from Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch?

Adam hated the way Ronan drove. 

Adam was not one to shy away from the gas pedal, taking advantage of the long and empty Henrietta roads to see how high he could get his speedometer. But Ronan was something else. He drove like Adam’s father.

When Adam was still young and content to be in public school, his father would drive him into town for school on his way to work and pick him up afterward. The mornings started the same, Robert Parrish pulling out of the trailer park with more care than Adam had seen him take with anything that involved Adam. A few minutes in, Adam would look out of the window for too long, or his forehead would leave a smudge on the window, or he would sigh a little too loudly, and something in his father would snap. His turns became harsh and dangerous and Adam would strain to keep his body straight. He resisted the urge to tug on his seatbelt for comfort or hold onto the handle above his head. Any sort of reaction, fear, would only make his father angrier. He would endure the 15-minute ride of his father’s enraged sidelong glances and whispered threats of aggression. 

To be trapped in a small space with a man that had no trouble raising a hand to him was something Adam lived with constantly. But when he escaped home, there was nothing at St. Agnes to remind him of his father. When he drove with Ronan, every harsh turn and heavy thud on the brakes was a reminder of his father. 

Deep down, Adam knew Ronan had not a grain of malice for him. Adam knew Ronan would never raise a hand to him as his father had. Adam knew Ronan would never hurt him. Adam knew that Ronan wasn’t a reckless driver because he was mad at Adam. Adam knew it wasn’t his fault. Still, a lump formed in his throat and that cloud of discomfort hung over him the second he slipped into Ronan’s massive car.

“Parrish,” Ronan mumbled, his eyes covered by dark sunglasses as they slid over to Adam from the driver’s side of the car.

Adam tilted his chin in response, already clenching every muscle in his body in preparation for the ride ahead of him. The shitbox had been stuck at Boyd’s for a few days now, and Adam had given away his bike when he moved into St. Agnes. Adam worked on his car when he wasn’t working on cars he was getting paid to fix, and when he wasn’t studying, and when he wasn’t running around with Blue fixing the ley line, and when he wasn’t working at the factory. Ronan had seen Adam walking on the side of the road the other day and had refused to entertain it since then. Adam had been in hell the past few days. 

Ronan’s grin was like a snarl, or his snarl was like a grin, when he pressed heavily on the gas. Adam’s already tense body fell into the seat behind him and he resisted the urge to close his eyes. Anxiety seeped into his body, overriding the calm nature of Cabeswater guiding him. The ley line had been quiet recently, perhaps deciding to let Adam work out his inner turmoil for a while and letting all things supernatural take a backseat.

Ronan and Adam were on a fine line of stolen kisses and flirtatious comments, still hidden in the privilege of secrecy from the rest of the world. They were able to be friends, and definitely able to get in their stupid fights. But they were also able to kiss in the backseat of the Pig when they both refused to get out and search a random forest with Blue and Gansey. 

Moments like this, when Adam’s hurt could be solved by a truthful and vulnerable conversation, were moments that scared him. How would he be able to move forward with Ronan, out of the hidden kisses and touches, if he couldn’t talk to Ronan? 

Ronan’s hand lightly punched into Adam’s thigh, hitting hard muscles that threatened to cramp from being so tense.

“Shit, Parrish.” Ronan retracted his arm, resting it on the gear shift between them. “You pissed about something?”

Adam almost laughed, but it came out in a strangled breath exhaled from his nose. 

“No,” he sighed, closing his eyes and taking the moment to ease his body. He uncurled his toes and relaxed his calves, moving up from there.

“Okay,” Ronan said, forcing an unbothered tone that sounded anything but.

Adam’s mind immediately started to race as Ronan turned onto a long stretch of road. Did Ronan think Adam was mad at him? Why would Adam be mad at Ronan? Had Ronan done something? Did Ronan think he was stressed about school? Was Ronan worried for him?

“Adam,” Ronan had pulled to the side of the road and turned towards Adam without Adam noticing. 

Ronan watched Adam’s body relax. The body Ronan dreamed about, longed for, wanted. He ached to touch the rigid edges of Adam’s hard body, wondered if he would tense even more under his touch. Ronan kept his hands to himself.

“I,” Adam started, but he didn’t have anything to say. He realized he had started to talk on reflex. He had started to talk because he used to have to ease his father’s anger before it materialized as a punch to the face. Adam didn’t have to do that with Ronan. Ronan wouldn’t get angry if Adam sat in silence with him.

“Is it,” Ronan shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. His hands returned to the wheel, then to his head, then he tapped his fingers on the window beside him. “Is it something with school? Extra shifts or something?”

Adam sighed, breathed deeply. Ronan watched his chest expand.

“C’mon, Parrish,” Ronan added lightly, twitching up the corners of his lips in a brief moment of kindness that only Adam and Mathew only got to see.

“I don’t like driving with you,” Adam blurted out, tired of repressing everything in his head and finding the words to be living on his tongue, aching for a place in the air. 

Adam regretted it immediately, watching Ronan’s body twitch and stiffen beside him. Ronan turned away from Adam, focusing his eyes on the road ahead of them. He had taken his sunglasses off at some point, Adam noticed now that he looked at Ronan. His brows were furrowed and his gaze was hard. There was no sign of that lifted lip from before. 

“Ro,” Adam huffed out, feeling his words come easier after he threw that rock onto the ice. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not you, it’s just-”

“What? You don’t like me doing something for you? That it? Fuck, Adam, I’m so sick of this holier-than-thou shit from you. I like doing things for you. I like driving with you, okay?”

Adam had clenched his jaw, eyes glazed over and prepared for a hit. Ronan hated that look, he hated the way Adam built this wall around himself any time Ronan so much as raised his voice. He was waiting for Ronan to hit him.

Adam waited for a moment, watching Ronan breathing heavily as the fight and fury left his eyes. “Fuck off,” Adam spat, turning away and crossing his arms over his chest.

The air in the car was tense, but Adam was glad the flood gates had been opened. It was the violence he was waiting for whenever he got in a car with Ronan or his father. This kind of tension was what Adam was used to, it was the kind of environment Adam could thrive in. 

“I’m not sorry,” Ronan whispered unnecessarily because Adam knew he wasn’t sorry. Ronan was never sorry. Adam didn’t want him to be.

“I am,” Adam said, his eyes locked on his knees and his cheek trapped between his teeth. 

“Why did you say that?”

Ronan didn’t look at Adam, but he heard him take several breaths that sounded like they took effort.

“You drive like my da-” Adam stopped and swallowed heavily, “You drive like my father.”

When Ronan looked at Adam, Adam was smiling sadly. It was like a sad joke that Adam hadn’t told the punchline for, but he was already smiling. 

Ronan didn’t sigh and reach out for Adam, he didn’t smile back, he didn’t offer any sort of apologies or comforts. 

“Oh,” There was a beat of waiting silence, thick with Ronan’s thoughts. “Okay.” 

He put the car in gear and continued down the street. He used his blinker when he veered back onto the road, even though there was not a soul in sight. He kept his speedometer scarily low. He glanced at Adam and slowed to almost a complete stop before he made the sharp turn down the long driveway to the Barns.

“Ronan, you don’t have to,” Adam stopped his sentence when Ronan climbed out of the car before he could finish. Adam climbed out of the ridiculously huge car and slammed the door harder than Ronan had.

“Ronan!” 

Ronan was stomping up the porch stairs, he heaved open the door, he went to the kitchen. Adam followed him, feeling his own rage building in his chest.

“Don’t be a dick,” Adam panted when he found Ronan resting against the counter on his elbows, head in his hands.

“I don’t ever want to remind you of him,” Ronan said softly, not lifting his head from his hands. 

Adam’s feet froze to the floor, a few feet away from Ronan. 

“I don’t want to make you feel like he did.”

“You don’t,” Adam said it before he realized his anger left him. He wasn’t sure when it happened, maybe it was watching Ronan’s back curl with the way he hunched over, maybe the sound of Ronan’s voice, maybe the words themselves. 

Ronan uncurled himself, finally looking at Adam. His lips were in a tight line, a guilty look in his eyes. 

“Ronan,” Adam steeled himself, squaring his shoulders and taking a step towards him, “I’m not going to talk like this. About him. I deal with it every day. I see him when I close my eyes at night. I don’t see him when I look at you. Just drop this.”

Ronan’s face was hard to read, but Adam had learned its language. He watched Ronan’s expression change from hurt to guilt to some sort of understanding. He hung his head for a moment and nodded.

“Yeah,” he took a step towards Adam, so close that when he breathed his chest expanded and touched Adam’s. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Adam didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He didn’t want to see Ronan’s remorseful face. He wrapped his arms around Ronan and tucked his face into his neck. It took him a moment but Ronan returned the hug, holding Adam with a strong hold. They stayed like that for a while, the crickets chirping in the yard and Opal’s distant cheering in one of the barns ringing through the quiet house. 

“You’re nothing like him,” Adam whispered, his legs tired from standing for so long. “Not to me.”

Ronan sucked in a shaky breath, squeezing him tighter and nuzzling his nose further into Adam’s neck. His hand fisted in the back of Adam’s shirt, rubbing circles between Adam’s shoulder blades.

“Neither are you.”

Adam’s mind reeled, he nearly fell in Ronan’s arms. He had never told Ronan about his fear of the anger inside him. The way he couldn’t control it. The way he knew he had the power to hit the same way his father had. Ronan just knew. Somehow.

That night, Adam didn’t see his father’s face when he closed his eyes. He didn’t see anything. All he thought of was Ronan’s arms around his waist and his constant, warm breath on his neck.


End file.
